Believe in Us (Jett #2) (10 page)

By lunch, I’ve been loaded down with syllabus after syllabus and more first-day-of-school homework than I’ve ever had in my life. So much for taking AP classes thinking they’d be easy.

But the first half of the morning is finally over, so I walk to the corner between the history and science hallways where Keanna and I had agreed to meet. I’m anxious to see her, to smell her green apple shampoo and say something stupid to make her smile.

It’s like I’m an entirely different person this year compared to last year. Last year all I cared about was turning sixteen, getting a truck, and dating girls. Now the only thing on my mind is Keanna, and to a lesser extent, motocross.

I have a girl I love and the best sport ever in my back yard. Could I be any luckier?

My chest warms as I grin and I don’t even care if people are watching me with funny looks on their faces. I wait a minute and finally see Keanna’s soft brown hair on top her adorable head. It’s all I see, since the crowd of other students are all around, shoved into the hallway like sardines. Everyone is anxious to get to lunch, and I’m probably the most anxious. After all, I have the best girlfriend in the school.

“Hey,” I say, when she walks up to me. Immediately, I know something is wrong. Her expression is solemn, her eyes far away. I slip my hand into hers. “Did something happen?”

She snorts through her nose. “Define
something
.”

We weave into the crowd and make it to the cafeteria. Keanna doesn’t say anything else and I can tell by the look on her face that she doesn’t want to talk about it. That doesn’t mean she’s off the hook. It just means I’ll wait until we’re somewhere more private to ask her about it.

My friends are already sitting at the bar when we arrive, and D’andre has saved two seats with two of his textbooks. The guy can’t be bothered to use a backpack. Every year he just carries around his stuff.

“Are these for us?” I ask.

He nods while taking a bite of his cheeseburger.

“Where’s Maya?” I look around for her, but all the seats are filled and her spunky, always smiling self isn’t here.

“Cheer practice for the first week of school,” he says. “I think they’re getting ready for the pep rally on Friday.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “The fact that I know that means I’m dating a cheerleader.”

Keanna sinks into the chair next to me and stares blankly out the window in front of us. I put my hand on her back. “Are you hungry?”

She doesn’t answer, unless pressing her lips together for a split second counts as one, so I ask another question. “Want me to get us some food?”

She shrugs.  “I’ll get us food,” I say, rubbing my hand on her back before I get up and head to the line.

This is driving me crazy. I know she was nervous about starting school, but she seemed okay earlier today. What could have possibly happened between first period and now?

My mind runs rampant with crazy thoughts while I get into the food line and fill up a tray with various things I think she might like. I get a cheeseburger, two slices of pizza, cheesy fries, and a fruit cup in case she’s not in the mood for junk food.

D’andre is talking to her when I return, and she’s actually talking back, so that might be a good sign.

I set the tray down and her eyes go wide. She looks up at me. “You must be extra hungry today.”

“Half of this is for you,” I say. I lean over for a kiss and for a split second it feels like she might not give it to me. Then she leans forward, presses her lips to mine quickly and then takes a plate with a pizza slice.

“Thanks,” she says, peeling off a pepperoni and eating it.

“Your girl here is having a little trouble from the ghosts in your past,” D’andre says over a mouthful of food.

She talked to him and not me? My blood turns to ice. “What exactly does that mean?”

He shrugs and nods toward Keanna. She peels off a piece of the pizza crust and eats it.

“Oh come on,” I say, trying not to sound as agitated as I feel. “You’ll talk to my best friend but not me?”

She sighs. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve just had a hard morning.”

“How?”

Her eyes flit to mine for just a second and then she looks back at her food. “Every single class has had at least one girl berate me for dating you. And I’m like . . . how the hell do you even know about that?” Her hands turn palm up. “How does the whole freaking school know that I’m dating you? It hasn’t even been a whole day. But by the way that they’re talking, you’d think we were caught having sex on the auditorium or something.”

I realize I haven’t been breathing since she started talking, so I gasp for a breath. “Damn,” I say, letting it out slowly. I run a hand across my forehead. “How
do
people know? It’s not even a big deal! Everyone is dating someone in this school, right? It’s not like dating is some rare insane thing.”

“Calm down, bro.” D’andre nudges me with his elbow. I realize a little too late that I was probably talking way louder than I should have.

Anger has me clenching my fists. “Who talked to you? What’d they say?”

She shakes her head. “It’s not a big deal, Jett. It just seems that every girl in this entire school thinks I shouldn’t date you.”

Okay, I have
not
dated every girl in this school. I’m not
that
bad.

“They’re just jealous,” D’andre says. “Trust me. Every girl wants Jett but not every girl gets him. So hold your head up high, girl.”

“Thanks, man.” I nod toward him but I don’t think his comment helped Keanna at all. I put my arm around her back and lean in close, pretending it’s only us two in the cafeteria. “You’re just something new to look at,” I tell her. “They’ll get over it in a day or two.”

“I hope you’re right,” she says, leaning into my chest as I hold her close. “If not, I’ll be looking into homeschooling and GED classes.”

I grin. “If I’m not right, I’ll look into those myself.”

*

Keanna is a lot better by the time lunch is over and we hang out in a bay window alcove, hands wrapped around each other, kissing and talking until the two-minute warning bell rings for fifth period.

“Only three more classes,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers.

“Thank God,” she mumbles, but she gives me a smile that lets me know she’s okay. For now. “I’ll see you after school?”

“Yep.” I tap her on the nose with my finger and her face scrunches up. Now would also be the perfect time to tell her I love her. But I chicken out and head to History class instead.

My teacher, Mrs. Perrone, is the same History teacher I had last year. She teaches mostly AP classes and I like her a lot because she prefers to give animated lectures instead of classwork. You only write one paper per year for her class and she gives just a few tests that are all open book.

I slide into a desk in the back and a long wave of blond hair sits next to me. The hair flips over her shoulder and Ashley Lubbock flashes me her extra white teeth. “Hey there.”

“Hi, Ashley.”

I pull out my binder and pretend to be searching for something. Mrs. Perrone passes out the syllabus and introduces herself, giving a long winded story about each of her four Chihuahuas at home.

“Alright guys, now it’s time for your own introductions. Partner up with the person sitting next to you. For the next text minutes, you’ll learn about your desk mate and then introduce them to the class. You’ll each be speaking for a minimum of three minutes.”

Ashley exhales and turns toward me. “I was hoping she’d do that. I’m Ashley, but you already know that, right? I mean, of course you do.”

“Yeah, I’m Jett.” I ready my pen over my paper. “So tell me enough things about yourself so I can talk for three minutes.”

She laughs and puts a hand over her chest. She leans over and wraps her arm around my elbow, leaning in just the way that makes her low cut tank top show everything she’s got under there. “Jett, you’re so cute,” she says, running her hand through my hair.

I jerk backward and she frowns. “Ugh, please,” she says, waving a hand at me. “Don’t act like you don’t want the attention.” Her eyes flash conspiratorially. “We both know you love it.”

“Are you hitting on me?” I have to whisper it even though everyone in class is talking to their partner. I can’t believe what’s actually happening right now, especially after Keanna and I decided that the entire school knows about my girlfriend by now. Surely she does, too.

Ashley rolls her eyes and does the hair flip thing again. “Okay, you’re acting like you don’t remember what happened between us,” she says, even quieter.

I lift an eyebrow. “Nothing has happened between us.”

“The end of school party last year,” she says, watching me for any sign of recognition. She runs a ringer down my arm. “Remember now?”

I look up, trying to remember what she’s talking about. A bunch of football guys threw a party at one of their houses last year. I remember going with D’andre . . . and I remember getting super wasted. That’s it.

“Look, whatever you think happened between us, that won’t happen again. I have a girlfriend and I’m committed to her.”

Her face hardens for a second and then she shakes her head. “Look. I know I gave you the best blow job ever, and you were dying for more.” Her eyes bore into mine and she lowers her voice to barely a whisper. “So if you’d like more fun times with me, I’ll keep it quiet, okay?” She winks and leans so close to me that her boobs touch my arm. “I’ve had even more practice since then.”

God. Did that
really
happen between us? Was I even sober enough to let that happen? I was single at the end of school last year, just dealing with the on-again off-again crap with Emma Clarke. I guess it’s possible . . . but . . . ugh.

Damn. I kind of hate myself right now. “Thanks, but no thanks,” I say, turning to focus on my paper. “Tell me generic things about yourself so we can do this stupid assignment.”

“Okay here’s one,” she says, pointing to her finger. “I have a cat named Missy. And two,” she points to the next finger. “I give really great head.”

I palm my forehead. This is going to be a really, really long year. And sheltering Keanna from all of this insanity might end up being the death of me.

Whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

I’m not sure who came up with this saying but it really doesn’t make sense, at least not on a reasonable level. But one would think that whoever said this originally, whoever believed it enough to make it into a saying that’s universally known, must have felt there was truth to it. So I repeat it to myself every single day in class.

In three days, Aubrey has gone from giving me condescending glares to being a straight up vocal bitch. Every time she gets a few seconds near me, she’ll say something about me and Jett.

Are you still dating him? Wow.

I wonder how many girls he’s slept with in the last week.

Have you been tested for STDs? God, you must have a ton.

I ignore it. Doing nothing about her bitchy comments is the right move—I know, but it’s killing me inside. All I want to do is grab her short brown hair and yank it backward, kick her in the back of the knees and watch her tumble to the ground, begging for mercy. Yeah, I get a little graphic in my daydreams.

By Friday, Mr. Ellis has us doing math worksheets to see where we are in math skills. When we finish a worksheet, we take it to the back table to turn in and then grab another sheet from a stack of five different assignments. I’m turning in my third worksheet when Aubrey approaches the back table. We’re the only two students here, and Mr. Ellis is playing music over the speakers so no one can hear her.

“Let me guess,” she hisses. “You have Jett’s parents locked in a basement?”

“Excuse you?” I say.

She makes one of her fake smiles. “Well I’m trying to figure out what kind of horrible thing you’ve done to make him pretend to like you. Obviously it has to be bad. I mean look at you, you look like straight up white trash wearing designer clothes.”

The worksheet crumples in my grip. I glance back to make sure our teacher is still focused on his computer with his back to us. “Let me take a guess, here, Aubrey.” I lean in until her eyes are the only thing I see. “You’ve lusted after my boyfriend for months, probably even years, and he didn’t want you because you’re ugly and vapid and now you’re pissed because he’s taken and you can’t harass him anymore?”

Her eyes widen and I nod. “Yeah, that’s probably it. I’m sorry you’re too much of a troll for my boyfriend to look twice at you.”

I turn on my heel and march back to my desk. I can handle this shit. It only makes me stronger, right?

Something in Aubrey’s glare tells me that I’ve moved our little bickering sessions into deeper territory. I can feel her gaze boring into the side of my skull for the rest of class. And when I finish my worksheet, I want until three or four other students are at the back table to go turn it in. In my old schools, under the care of Dawn, I wouldn’t have backed down. If Aubrey wanted bitch and moan until I got so annoyed I punched her, that’d be fine. I didn’t care back then.

But my new parents are angels. They’re the kindest and most generous people on earth. They look at me like I’m worth loving. I’m not going to get in a fight at school just weeks after I became their daughter. It won’t happen. I’m going to be the person they want me to be and not the piece of white trash that Aubrey has so accurately seen buried underneath my good girl bravado.

I keep hoping that Jett will be right and that the girls who say rude things to me will slowly give up and move on to something else, someone else. But I get the stares when I’m alone in the hallways. Some girls ask if I’m Jett’s girlfriend and they just sound curious, but others say it just to be mean. Just so they can get the satisfaction of me saying yes and then they can point their smirks and judgmental laughter my way and know that I understand it’s meant for me.

I never knew that dating one of the most popular guys in school would be such a curse. It’s only been three days of my senior year at Lawson High School and I’m already dying for it to be over. I’ve considered making a poster board sized calendar to hang on my wall. It’d have the rest of the days of the year written on it so I can cross them off one by one, counting down the days until I’m free and out of this high school drama.

I spend the rest of my time wondering how long it’ll take Jett to wake up and realize I’m just some loser. Some pathetic nobody with no fun life experiences and no money and nothing worth loving. He’s bound to find out sooner or later. And when it does, it’s going to crush me.

Just two weeks ago I’d thought I was the luckiest girl on earth. I had new parents, a new car, a gorgeous house and a bedroom all to my own. My boyfriend is the hottest guy ever and he’s caring and loving and doesn’t ever pressure me into sex stuff unlike every other guy I’ve ever known. Just two freaking weeks ago—hell, just four days ago—my life was perfect. I guess I always knew that it would come crumbling down at some point.

I guess I just thought I had a little more time.

After gym class, I hitch my backpack onto my shoulders and walk quickly to my next period. The gym is on the other side of the school, and with five minutes between classes, it’s always a close call to get to English class on time. And my English teacher is at least three hundred years old. She doesn’t give warnings—she gives tardies. And tardies equal detention.

I round the corner into another hallway near the stairs. My body goes flying forward, my head crashing against the wall. I stumble and cry out in pain but I don’t fall, since I manage to grab onto the staircase. What the hell just happened? I rub my head and turn around.

Aubrey stands there, arms crossed, a perfect bitch look plastered to her face. “What the hell?” I yell, starting toward her.

A strong arm slams out, blocking me. That’s when I see the guy standing next to her, using his massive arm as a barricade. He has dark black hair and the same eyes as Aubrey. “Is this the bitch who was bothering you?” he asks her.

She nods. “That’s her.”

With his arm pressed to my chest, he slams me backward until my back hits the wall. There’s nothing I can do to stop it; he’s way too strong.

His breath smells like spearmint gum as he hovers in front of me, using his forearm to press down on my neck. I reach for his arm and dig my nails into his skin but it doesn’t faze him.

“Get the fuck off me,” I manage to say through gasps of breath.

“You stay away from my little sister, you hear me?” His lip curls and from this close, he looks like he’s thirty. He must have failed a lot of classes to still be in high school.

“I didn’t do shit to your sister,” I say. I contemplate doing something really horrible—like bad—spitting in his face. I’ve never sunken that low in my life, but he
does
have me pressed against a wall while he hovers so close to me I can feel his heart beating through his arm.

“You’re a cute little thing,” he says, his eyes roaming down my body. From the corner of my eye, I see his sister walk away, leaving us all alone in the stairwell. The two-minute bell rings.

“Let me go, asshole.”

“In a minute,” he says. There’s a hunger in his eyes that I’ve seen on countless other men in my life. With one arm pressed against my neck, he leans in, pushing his body up against mine. I wince and turn to the side, trying to slide out of his grip but every time I move, he chokes me harder, His other hand grabs my boob and squeezes it so hard I gasp.

“Get off me,” I say through gritted teeth.

“You like that,” he says, moving his mouth even closer to mine. I keep my jaw tight and I turn and twist and fight like hell to break free, even though I can’t breathe anymore.

His disgusting hand slides down my side and reaches for my jeans. I manage to lift my foot just enough to kick him in the shin but it doesn’t really help. My throat burns and my vision fills with black spots.

I hear a grunt and then I’m released. Oxygen rushes into my lungs and I fall forward, gasping for air like I can’t possibly get enough.

Cursing fills the hall, the voice familiar. I sit back on my knees and watch while Jett plummets the guy’s face with his fist.

The guy fights back, landing a blow to Jett’s eye, but Jett doesn’t flinch. He attacks Aubrey’s brother again, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to the ground.

Commotion sounds from down the hallway. Doors open and close. I see administrators rushing toward us, talking into handheld radios. I just sit here trying to remember how to breathe, rubbing the sore spot on my neck that’s surely bruised, and I watch my boyfriend kick this guy’s ass until a teacher pulls them apart.

*

Jett’s eye is swollen and bleeding just above his eyebrow. The entire side of his face is a purple mess, and I can barely see the blue in his left eye because it’s nearly swollen shut. The nurse gave him an ice pack which he holds over it while he walks out of the principal’s office.

He had to talk to him first. I went second. After telling the principal the story—leaving out no details—I learned that Aubrey’s brother is a college dropout who only showed up to school because Aubrey texted him. This was a planned attack and I was the victim. After hearing this story, the principal called Jett back in. He was in there for only two minutes, according to the clock on the wall.

“Hey,” I say, standing up.

Jett holds up a pink slip of paper. “Suspended for a week. It doesn’t matter that I was saving you. Apparently I was
more aggressive than necessary
.”

“Oh my god,” I say, putting my hand on his chest. “This is all my fault.”

“None of it is your fault,” he says, taking my hand. We leave the office and head to the parking lot. School isn’t over but we’re sure as hell not going back to class after what happened.

“Jett, I can’t believe this,” I say, feeling tears rush to my eyes. “Your parents are going to kill you.”

“Nah. It’ll be okay.” It could just be because half of his face is swollen, but it doesn’t seem like he believes what he’s saying.

He chuckles. “Remember on the first day of school when I joked about getting suspended?”

“Don’t remind me,” I say, looking at the ground.

“At least I made it three whole days,” he says, nudging me with his shoulder.

“You are
not
funny,” I say, trying to hide my smile.

He winks at me with his good eye. “Maybe I’m a little bit funny.”